I Don't Ever Back Down
by belly131
Summary: "I don't train girls." "Then consider me one of the boys." "You young ones, always coming here for the wrong reasons." Roqua shakes his head. She calls out to him, "I want him to know the next time I say no, I mean it. I will never be so helpless again."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own this movie...or the delicious men in it..sadly.

AN: it's a bit different from the movie but mostly the same. all that's changed is Roqua doesn't teach girls, he leaves to Brasil for the summer but comes back and let's Jake train with him again, and Baja left after Beatdown.

Jake.

'How long has it been?' I think to myself as I do a set of back squats. I'm barely concentrating on the sets I've been doing. I know my form is terrible, and the squats lazy, but I'm just out of it today.

"Jake! Remember your form!" Roqua reprimands from beside me. 'Great now he's going to watch me..' I inhales deeply before going into a low squat.

"Back straight, and your knees go over you toes Jake, what's wrong with you?" Roqua shakes his head leaving me to my squats.

I breathe deeply as I do a set of perfect back squats, then place the weights on the rack. Roqua gives me a little nod of approval. I move over to the punching bags next. Boys are starting to filter out of the gym since it close to closing time.

Three punch combination and finally a roundhouse kick. One of the first combinations I had learned here. A year had passed since my move to Orlando. Since my ass kicking at Ryan's party. Since the Beatdown. Since Baja left... I think back on the girl who came into my life for such a brief period and changed so much. She left shortly after the Beatdown, claiming the violence was too much for her. I hadn't seen her since. Summer passed, a blur of mixed feelings I couldn't really identify, and then I was back where I started, except it was senior year.

I stop my combinations, bending over as sweats pours down my face. Sometimes I get lost in my head as I works out, most of the time I don't like it. Being trapped face to face with the memories I was trying to forget was terrifying. I look up, wiping my forehead. It's nearly 6, and only few others are left.

I start to finish as I always do, with one of the loose punching bags that ways roughly the same as an opponent would. I throw it onto the mat stepping back to think about my routine.

"Hey, can you tell me who Roqua is?" A voice asks me. I look up into a set of brown eyes that pierce me to the core. It's like someone took all the pain, rage, anger, and sadness I see when I look in the mirror, bottled it up and put inside some poor girl.

"Hello?" She waves a hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality. I realize I must have been staring at her like a retard for a few seconds.

"Oh yeah, over there," I point him out to her, "Big black guy, hard to miss."

She smiles hollowly and begins to walk over. I grab her arm as she steps on the mat and she turns fast, so fast I didn't see it, stepping out of my grasp. Her eyes are narrowed at me as she holds her arm where I touched it.

"No shoes." I say, raising an eyebrow at her strange behavior.

"Oh, sorry." She says quietly, slipping out of her ratty vans.

She approaches Roqua with soft footsteps, her slight weight making barely any noise. He turns as he sees her coming. Neither of them say anything as they approach each other. The other guys stop their weights to watch the encounter. She stops a short distance before him, not breaking her gaze from his strong stare, few I knew could do that and I knew he respected people that could.

"How can I help you?" He finally breaks the silence between them.

"I want you to train me." She says simply to him. She holds onto his stare. His eyes break away first.

"Back to your weights," He snaps at us, we immediately get back to work, "I'm sorry child, but I don't train girls."

Roqua turns his back to observe another boy doing ring exercises.

"That's a little sexist." She says, she hadn't moved. Roqua turns around slowly, really sizing her up now.

"It's against my moral principles to hit a girl." He says coldly to her.

"Then consider me one of the boys." She retorts.

I see him fight back a smile. But his face resumes it's normal indifference. He considers her another moment, "You young ones, always coming here for the wrong reasons."

I take in bruises on her face and neck now, how did I not notice them before? They were so prominent, a purply black against the snowy white of her skin.

"We do not fight in anger here, we fight to let go of anger." Roqua says to her. I feel a strange sense of deja vu, the scene reflecting what happened to me about a year ago. He turns and stalks off towards his office. I turn to her expecting her to run out, embarrassed, but she turns on her heels and shouts at Roqua's back.

"I want him to know that the next time I say no,_ I mean it_. I will _never_ feel that helpless again." She says, her voice low. All the pent up rage I see in myself is seething through her skin.

Roqua turns, taking one long look at her. She looks back defiantly, eyes shining.

"I don't want to take you in here, and have you drop out because you can't handle it. You must be ready to work harder than you ever had in your life. You will not have any special privileges because you are a girl."

"Wasn't expecting any. And I don't never back down." She responds. They lock eyes intensely for another moment.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning at six. Don't be late." We all watch as she nods at him before slipping her shoes on and walking out.

Roqua comes over to me and I pretend that I've been doing my exercises all along. The other guys follow suit.

"I hope you know what you're doing." I say to him.

"I do too..." He says looking out the door, where her silhouette is rapidly becoming a tiny speck.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I again do not own this movie. Just Juliana.

Jean Roqua.

After a quick training session this morning I open up the roll up door to find both Jake and the girl from yesterday sitting and talking on the steps.

"Deja vu huh?" Jake smiles at me, reading my mind exactly. I see his eyes dart to the girls every so often. I turn my eyes to her.

"Good morning." She says politely. It seems as though the bruises that littered her face yesterday had darkened. The morning sunlight casts a sickly glow on her skin. I tear my eyes off them as I can see she's getting uncomfortable.

"I didn't catch your name yesterday." I look over my shoulder at her, she has a sureness in her step. Not exactly cocky, but as if she's daring you to do something.

"Juliana. But I go by Anna." She sets her bag down on one of the benches and takes her large sweatshirt off. Underneath, the short sleeves of her t-shirt and shorts show the extent of her bruises. I keep my eyes on her face, but Jake can't take his eyes off the nasty, inky bruises in between her legs.

"Well Anna. Let's get started."

I start her off simple, with something my beginning class would have done. She excels quickly, showing me she's not out of shape. Soon enough I have her working on the activities our advanced class would work on. I watch her work on the rings. She's glistening with sweat, but there is a set of pure determination her face. Her arms start to tremble slightly, and I can see a brief flick of pain cross her face.

"30 more seconds Anna." I tell her, checking the stopwatch.

The trembling becomes stronger as the rings begin to sway slightly.

"Control Anna!" I raise my voice. She winces a little and I feel slightly bad, but her face gets this resolve as her arms straighten out and she holds the cross position for 45 more seconds.

"Done." I say. She drops to the floor, breathing hard.

"Good for your first day, but that was just the warm-ups."

Before long the other boys from the advanced class had joined us. They sent shared glances and smirks at Anna, but she paid them no mind. She and Jake were working on the ropes, using only upper arm strength to get to the top. Her slight weight enabled her to move faster, but Jake's muscle helped him catch up.

Through the mirror I see the extent of her beating. The purple bruises around her neck take the form of enclosed hands, the bruises littering the left side of her jaw clearly defining where a hand had covered her mouth. Along her legs it was just a large mass of dark colors, as if a three year old had dipped his hands into a black paint jar and smeared them across her pale legs. Along her arms were more hand prints, as if she was pushed down, held down.

Only a coward could hit a girl. What did that make one who forced himself upon one? A monster? Most likely.

"Boys. Together." They all follow, including Anna.

Lately I've been trying out a new set of exercises, after figuring out the boys stances were becoming irregular and unsteady. I incorporated balance exercises after the combinations round.

"Right hooks and duck!" I call out, all of them follow suit, punches sharp and ducks quick. I feel a semblance of pride as I look over and see Anna is not only keeping up with the boys, but excelling among them. She has the natural ease that Jake does.

Once we begin the balance section I see the boys start to mumble. They never liked this part. We move outside where we practice over the thin rods laid between the tall 5 feet posts.

"Come on guys! Balance is at the base of fighting. Without balance we can't quickly return after delivering a blow, we can't throw even weight into a punch with it!" They straighten and I move to the next pose.

Each pose becomes increasingly more complex, each time more and more boys either fall over or knock into each other.

"Come on guys final move." I stretch up both hands in the air, one leg extended behind me, Although from a watchers point of view it look quite simple, on top of circular rods pretty far from the ground it was a challenging move.

I move out of the position and watch the guys. Half the class is already down, moaning from the impact with the cement. Of the few that were still up they were wobbling precariously, or had deathly concentrated faces on. Jake, severely wobbling, looks over incredulously at Anna, who's firmly holding the position, back completely straight, arms perfectly stretched over her head and leg precisely sticking out at the given angle.

"How are you doing that?" Jake exclaims between breaths, he looks down briefly seeing that she perfectly balanced on the tips of her toes.

"I used to be a dancer. Ballet" She says calmly, a flicker of darkness crosses over her eyes.

"Drop positions." The ones that were still standing wobble over and fall into the middle of the structure. Anna drops her position balancing on the rod on the balls of her feet. She drops down with the grace only a former ballerina could have.

"How are you?" I ask her at the end of the day. Aside from doing exceptionally well she hasn't complained all day. Which really surprised me.

"Fine." With anyone else, the curt, one word answers would be considered rude but Anna simply makes it sound mild.

"Are you sore? With the extent of your..." I lay a hand on the darkest bruise on the arm facing me. She jerks away imperceptibly, I see a visible shiver run down her spine.

"I'm sorry." We both say at the same time. She must have thought that I was insulted she jerked away from my touch.

"I'm fine, thank you though. I'll see you next when?" She says, stepping around the subject skillfully.

"Next Saturday same time. You take care of yourself." I say. There's more I want to add. 'Be careful who you hang around with. Don't be reckless. Don't stay with the person who did this to you.' But I don't, I even refrain from the hand I want to lay on top of her head.

"Okay. Bye." She smiles, but it looks wrong. Like she's trying too hard to make me believe that she's okay, but we both can tell she's not.

"Wait! Juliana! How are you getting home?" Jake calls after her, walking up to her. She checks her phone.

"I just missed the bus, so I guess I'll walk." She says searching his face.

"No I'll give you a ride." He says quickly, adding a little smile. Oh young love.

Her eyes dart to me, fear evident. I nod at her, trying to convey that he's a good kid, that he can be trusted.

"No I don't want to be a hassle. Thanks for offering though, maybe next time. See you at school." She says in a rush, hightailing it out onto the street. She walks at a brisk pace and it's barely seconds before her footsteps fade from our hearing.

Jake looks back to me, eyes aflame.

"The extent of what they did, to have been so harsh that she flinches away from a slight touch, that she feels no trust whatsoever, make me want to kill someone." He angrily kicks punching bag, sending it flying several feet.

"Trust has to be earned Jake. You'll get it soon enough." I respond. We both look out into the dark night that swallowed Anna's figure.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Never Back Down...even though I wish I did.

* * *

Max Cooperman.

"Hey Max." The leggy blonde sends a broad smile in my direction.

"Hey Katie. I like your shirt." She laughs and adjusts the mini tube top she's wearing and I walk away. Most of the girls that hit on me are basically just trying to get to Jake, but if I get lucky the hot friend picks me. And I'm pretty lucky. I see Jake sitting at our usual table from across the dining hall as I start to make my way over to him.

"Hey Max," Ryan stops as he walks past me. I look at him wearily. After all, this guy did kick my ass and leave me near-dead on Jake's doorstep. Literally.

"McCarthy." I say coolly. Don't lose your composure Max.

"I didn't know we were on last name terms." He laughs loudly and several girls look over, swooning at the sight of Mr. Gift of God himself.

"Well I just wanted to say that I saw the last fight you were in. You've gotten a lot better, you're actually pretty good now." His face looks sincere as he says it but it's Ryan Fucking McCarthy so I push past him with a mumbled 'asshole'.

He calls out to me as I'm walking away. "I meant it Max." Ryan being...nice? Too much for my aching head to ponder on now. I slide onto the bench in front of Jake.

"Hey man." I greet him, his eyes are distant. I wave a hand in front of his face.

"Back to earth Captain. I repeat back to earth." His eyes suddenly shift into focus and he smiles at me.

"Hey Max." I repress the urge to smack the boy upside his head.

"Well _hello!"_ I say sarcastically. He laughs and reaches over to punch me in the arm.

Ouch.

"Wow Max, I didn't notice, you're really getting some muscle there." He laughs at my half-glare.

"Well I have been in the advanced class with you for three weeks, Space Captain. Where on earth has your head been? Wait don't answer, I know. Up your ass." Jake smiles at my snarky response.

"Well it figures the one day you miss, the most stuff happens." He says. Wait, what? I say exactly that.

"So this girl comes to the gym and ask Roqua to teach her." He starts.

"-But he doesn't teach girls. Did she run away crying when he rejected her?" I start to snicker.

"Actually he's training her..." He trails off.

"What!" Roqua was vehement in his belief on not hitting girls.

"Yeah...and she's in the advanced class." He says casually, stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth.

"WHAT!" I scream even louder, Jake just nods, "But-how. Why?" I stutter.

"She's actually pretty good though." He says. Our eyes meet. His sincere, mine incredulous.

"Who is this chick? I bet she's some butch lesbo that's bigger than both of us put together." I turn my head around searching, five bucks says she has a mullet and wears flannel shirts with the sleeves ripped off.

"Her name's Juliana, apparently she goes here." He drains his gatorade in about two seconds.

"Juliana...? Detre? Alonzo? Notting?" I question. None of them were butch lesbians.

Jake just shrugs. "I didn't catch her last name. But she said she used to be a ballerina."

My jaw literally drops on the table.

"You are not serious. Anna Lajoie. Bangable Anna Lajoie?" I look over to where the hippies sit, yup there she is. Jake's eyes follow mine and the get that stupid longing look they used to get when he looked at Baja.

But then again, she was something to look at. At just about 5"7 she was pretty tall for a girl, with long slim ballerina limbs. From what I heard she had a killer bod and often went streaking with her friends to be closer to nature. Stoners. She tucks a long curly lock of brown hair behind her ear. She looks different, a little paler than usual. But then again what do I know? Girls are always trying that wacky make-up shit to make them look different.

I turn back to Jake with a small smile.

"That my friend," I gesture to Anna, "One of us needs to get on."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own Never Back Down

thank you all so much for all the reviews, i can tell this story is going to take off, you'll be glad you started reading it/ please review!:)

* * *

Anna Lajoie.

Saturday morning again. Thank God. It seemed the only time that I didn't feel like I was about to explode was when I was high or training at Roqua's gym. The bus that went from my house to the stop nearest the gym ran on a weird schedule so I was always here ridiculously early. He'd open up in about an hour, I tell myself trying to still my shaking hands. They shake so much now. I stare at them. My mother used to always praise my "dancer's hands". I saw nothing particularly special about my pale hands other than my fingers weren't fat.

A sweet looking '68 Ford Mustang pulls up to the curb. I see Jake come out of the passenger's side. He smiles at me brightly, walking over. Jake's really nice but I don't know how to tell him I can't deal with guys in my life right now. Following behind him is a lanky guy with long-ish hair. Max Cooperman. We have three classes together but I don't think he really notices me.

"Hey Juliana." Jake swoops over and sits down next to me on the stairs. Before, I would have immediately corrected him. 'Call me, Anna." I would have flirted right back at him, made sure I looked presentable and put-together. Instead I just smile at him and pull my legs closer to my chest. Sometimes, when I let all my emotions catch up to me, I felt fireworks going off inside of me. Not the good kind. It was an explosive, fiery, painful, and bursting feeling; a feeling that made me want to claw at my skin to get away from the pain.

"Hey." Max says, awkwardly standing in front of me.

"Hi Max." I send him a smile too. He looks surprised that I know his name.

"We're in the same math, science, and english class..." I trail off, trying to explain how I know him when he doesn't know me.

"No, no, no I know who you are. I just didn't think you knew who _I_ was." We both chuckle a little.

"Why are you always here so early?" Jake asks me. I look over at him. He's studying my profile. I shiver a little as his eyes run down my body. His gaze brings back those terrible memories. I don't even have to close my eyes, the area surrounding me gets all dark and I'm in a hallway, being throw against a wall. I scream no and beat my hands onto a muscled back that doesn't budge. The louder I scream the more desparate I get, as I realize the enormity of what's about to happen.

"Juliana?" Jake waves his hand in front of my face. Hearing my name again annoys me, I can feel 'Call me Anna' lingering on my lips, but I feel like I can't call myself that anymore because that's not me anymore. Anna's far away.

"Sorry, spaced out for a second there..." I trail off, "What were you saying?"

"I was asking why you were always here so early?" He repeats. His eyes linger on my arms. There are still bruises in the shapes of hands grasping my shoulders. When they first started darkening I tried to convince myself they looked like irregular patterns, something a klutz like me would get falling down stairs. I meet his gaze and he drops his, embarassed at being caught staring.

"The bus schedule from my place to here is weird." I say simply.

"If you need a ride, I wouldn't mind picking you up when I pick Jake up..." Max says quietly, he barely looks at me. His eyes won't meet mine, instead lingering on the sidewalk next to me. Once I would have found it endearing, maybe teased him for it a little.

"Maybe." I respond quietly.

I feel eyes on my face again. I spin around and Jake is examining my nose.

"What." I snap. He look up at me taken aback with my tone. I almost say sorry. Almost.

"I just...are you sick or something? Your nose is all red." He says. No that would be the blow, I almost say. It would have been really funny. I start laughing to myself as Roqua open the door.

* * *

Max Cooperman.

I encounter beautiful girls everyday. In every class, in every passing period, after school, on my way home, in the mornings. It seems like they're everywhere. But somehow, after spending all of my 18 years in Orlando have any of those beautiful women ever equal the beauty of the girl sitting before me. After awkwardly realizing that we both knew who each other were, but not knowing if the other knew who _we_ were, I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

She sat on the steps next to Jake with her long legs curled up to her chest. Her dark curls were pulled back into a ponytail that was a multitude of reds, browns, and a deep black. Her ultra pale skin was something completely different from the permanently bronzed skin all the girls around here have. She smiled weakly at something Jake said and even though it wasn't a true smile, it was beautiful. The slight curve of her full lips angled her cheekbones into a pretty grin.

"Morning." Roqua says, leaning against the door. We all look at him, we didn't even realize he opened the door. Jake and I nod with mumbled 'mornings'.

"Hello." Anna says quietly. We walk in following Roqua, Jake makes conversation.

She's quiet, but not exactly timid. It's a strong kind of silence. She takes off her sweatshirt and I see more of the handprints, like the ones on her neck and face, all over her arms. My throat closes a little. What monster could ever... I can't even think about the kind of person that would do that to someone who can't fight back.

We file in front of Roqua as the rest of the class fills in. He puts his hands behind his back and smiles at us.

"Morning, ready for day two Anna?" He says directly to her. Everyone's eyes swivel to look at her. She feels the eyes upon her and turns red.

"So we'll start with the usual cycles. Get to it." He claps his hands and we set off.

From the rings I watch Anna do the speed crunches with three other guys. She moves just as fast as them, but I see it in her eyes, the pain. She bites the inside of her cheek and her eyes are watering but she's still pushing herself to go as fast as the other guys. I'm amazed as she finishes with the rest of the guys not crying out or anything.

For the rest of the day as we cycle through our exercises I watch her do the exercises at the same rate as the guys not once complaining. She's amazing.

At the end of the day after doing our balance exercises, which of course Anna performs just perfectly, I race home. Something was bugging me, but I couldn't figure out just what it was. I paced my room back and forth for about an hour. Somehow I wound up on my bed with a box of old videos on my lap. My hands randomly pushed through. My right locked onto one that felt right, I pulled it out. Last year's talent show. What...?

I plugged it into my computer anyway, putting on my headphones. The usual acts, girls impersonating Taylor Swift, the wanna-be rappers rapping over some popular song, the class nerd who is actually a comedian on stage, and the broadway geeks who just go all out. I'm almost to the end when I realize what I was looking for.

It starts with a black stage, the double spotlights on two figures. They are statue still as the piano begins to play a intricate, lilting melody. Anna is a breathtaking dancer. I open the movie onto full screen. Her dance is filled with passion and her emotions flow onto the stage as she whirls. Even in the crappy grainy camera I had, the film perfectly captured the excited smile she kept on her face as she leapt and twirled.

I lean back and watch a second time after the video finishes. She hold the final pose in what would probably be a really complex position and I note the smooth, creamy marble of her pale skin. I think back to this morning and the mottled black that covered her skin.

We were going to be friends now, and no one would hurt her again.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: i don't own any of Never Back Down. thanks so much for all the hits/alerts/favorites/reviews:) this story is going to take off, I promise. and more reviews would be appreciated;)

* * *

Ryan McCarthy.

"Mr. McCarthy your student tutor is here." The receptionist smiles kindly at me. I barely look at her as I breeze into the library to study table number 4. Failing music. How the fuck do you fail fucking music class? I don't know, but apparently I did. I just can't stop making my father proud, can I? First lost the beatdown to some kid who's not even had half the training that I did AND I fail _music_ class. My dad's the proudest father in the world.

I slump down at the table, the tutor isn't even here yet. Receptionist bitch. I rest my head on my arms, I'm tired as shit. Now when I get home, I actually have to _do_ my own homework and then more intense training sessions with my dad because I'm just not good enough.

"Excuse me, I think I'm your student tutor." A quiet voice says to me. I look up into dark brown eyes. For a minute they are pleasant but the next instant they morph into pure terror.

"Anna." I stretch out a hand to her.

"I...Need to switch." She backpedals hard spinning and flying in the direction of the library office.

I sprint after her in quick strides, beating her to the door. I shut it with one hand as she tries to open it.

"Listen, I think that we need to talk." I say softly to her.

Her terrified eyes take on a furious shine as she steps closer to me. "_We_ don't need to talk. What you need to do is rot in-" Her threat is cut short by a sudden rumbling that shakes some picture frames off the walls.

"EARTHQUAKE!" A terrified scream rips down the hallway as student start flying into classrooms. I make for the nearest doorway but I see Anna hasn't moved a bit. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and I grab her and push her backwards into the doorway behind her.

The minute that our skin touches she lets out a bloodcurdling scream. I hold her underneath the doorway as rubble falls from the ceiling and trophy cases slide down the hallways. She fights, punching and kicking savagely, as I hold her under the doorway. If I let her go she'll run and most likely be knocked out by a falling piece of debris. I put a hand on her shoulder gently trying to calm her down.

"Anna!" She won't even open her eyes, she's recoiled into the door post still screaming and pushing me away.

I take in the bruises across her jaw that I know if I measured would be the same size as my hand. Her jacket had fallen to the side and on her shoulders I see more of my hands all over, mottling her skin. I brush a finger lightly over the discolored contusions and her determined fighting melts into helplessness. The tears running down her face makes something twitch within me. I don't easily feel bad, but I couldn't take this.

"Please, please, please stop. Don't touch me..." Her sobs punctuate each word she moans.

"Anna please just hear me out! I was so drunk-" I rest my hand on her chin, forcing her to look at my eyes. She keeps muttering 'Don't touch me'

"McCarthy what the fuck do you think you're doing?" A booming voice yells at me down the hallway. I didn't even realize the earthquake ended.

Jake Tyler comes marching down the hallway towards me. Of course, the "hero" rescues the poor damsel in distress, she falls into his arms, they fall even more in love, crowd oohs and ahs. Jake was starting a tradition of taking my girls. Although it was a twisted way that I could consider Anna mine.

Anna breaks free from my grasp and takes off down the hall. She runs past Tyler who seems to think she's running into his arms. To both of ours' surprise she wrestles her wrists from his hold, tears still dripping down her face.

Jake is at my throat in an instant, "If I ever see you touching her again, I'm going to put you six feet in the ground." He says in a low, savage voice. His eyes are almost black with rage as he grasps the front of my shirt.

"What's going on down there!" Mrs. Diori screeches as she runs down the hallway. Jake backs up with one last menacing glare before running. We were both still on probation, which was why we couldn't start any shit here. I hightail it out the other exit before Mrs. Diori can make it down the hallway.

I see Anna jump into a mustang parked at the curb then tear away. Something makes my heart thump painfully in my chest. I didn't mean to hurt her.

It was one night, I was too drunk to remember specific details. But sometimes in the middle of the night I'd be woken up from horrifying nightmares that made me jolt awake covered in sweat. Sometimes it was Anna wrapped in my arms screaming, me inside Anna burning in pleasure as she cried and wept and cussed. But the worst of them all was Anna underneath me as I was inside her, not screaming or struggling, simply given up, hopeless, broken. I shake the thoughts from my head and hop in my hummer. Another day with the Father.

* * *

Max Cooperman.

I flip through a pile of CDs in my hand as I wait for Jake to get his english book in his locker. The dumbass would forget something the second we're about to pull out of the parking lot.

Sublime mix. Techno mix. Rap mix. Reggae mix. I toss them all on the floor and flip on the radio. I hear her before I even realize who's in my car.

"Go. Please just go." She says urgently, slamming the door shut. I look at her, her face slick with tears as she breathes deeply.

"Wha- are you alright?" I ask reaching out a hand. She shrinks away. Before, when Jake and I got close to her, she would casually rearrange herself so we wouldn't notice her flinching away from our touch.

"Go!" She screams. I turn back to the wheel shocked and peel away from the curb fast. Jake can find his own way home.

We're speeding down the highway when I finally allow myself to look at her. She's crying softly to herself as she hugs her knees to her chest.

I've never seen her so broken.

"Where do you want to go...?" I ask her gently.

"To the ocean." She says licking her lips, finally dry eyed.

No more hurting on my watch, I promise myself.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Don't own Never Back Down or anyone/anything in it. Except Anna.

Having a little trouble deciding who Anna dear should get with, help me out guys! Jake, Ryan, Max? Or maybe all three? hmmm...:)

* * *

Anna.

"To the ocean." I say trying to get my breaths more even. I had already broken down and cried in front of him, he probably thought I was an enormous baby now. God I'm such a wimp. I stick the dirty edge of my sweatshirt in my mouth, chewing on the frayed fabric. Calm, Anna, relax.

"They sent out a storm warning, no one's supposed to be on the beach right now..." Max says carefully, I see him trying to gauge my reaction through the corner of his eye.

"Oh, of course..." I pause. Where could I go? "Just take me a home." I say with a sigh. I give him basic directions to my house and sit back.

"Do you wanna talk about it...?" He asks awkwardly. I stare down at my shaking hands and realize he thinks I'm scared. Well I am. I'm scared shitless, but that's not why I'm shaking. In any other situation i would have laughed so hard I might've peed. I wanted to turn to him with a wide smile, the one I hadn't used in so long and say, 'Why no, I'm just shaking cause I'm having cocaine withdrawals.' I snicker a little inside my head, he might crash the damn car. He pulls to a rolling stop at a stop sign. 10 minutes max and I'm home. In the safety of my room (only considered safe because of the dead bolt), where I had plenty of booze, weed, and blow. I found myself anally counting the minutes, number of stop signs, number of blocks away from my house.

The inside of my head in pounding painfully. I press the hells of my palms to my temples hard, until my vision colors red. When he pushed me in the hallway, it was like that night at the party came rushing back...

"Anna.." Max puts his hand on my shoulder and I jump with a start. I make sure all my crap is in my bag before jumping out, I'm halfway across the yard when I realize how rude I just was. I turn around on my heels and bend down in front of the window. He rolls it down and leans towards me.

"Thanks so much Max, and actually could you pick me up for practice tomorrow?" I say with a charming smile. I wonder if I still look like the same person from the outside. He smiles at me nervously, and begins to peel away.

"Take care of yourself Anna." Oh, I will. I'll take care of myself so good.

I can almost hear the maniacal laughing in my head as my feet pound up the stairs. Mom's not home. Duh. Dad's on a business trip for another three months. So until March, the house is basically mine. Old Anna would have thrown a party, but _Juliana_ just isn't feeling it. I pour myself a tall glass to the rim with a musty bottle of whiskey. Boy do I love me some whiskey. I take it up to my room and dead bolt the door, when I look at my glass again it's half empty. I smile. I don't even feel it slip down my throat anymore.

Underneath my dresser there's a tossed aside Alice in Wonderland book that my old best friend Red and I slaved over for weeks. Our final result was a very professional hollowed out, normal looking book. I considered it a work of pure genius. And it's the same old routine it's always been. I pour a small pile of snow white powder onto the mirror, chopping it finer with a small razor. The first time I tried it was with an older boyfriend, I watched in awe as he cut and lined it up so professionally. If he saw me now. I laugh out loud at that one. Whiskey goes straight to your head.

Two neat little white lines mar my face in the mirror on my lap. I set it in front of me so I can bend over easily. Pretty, pretty, pretty. Very organized. I sniff one up with a sticker decorated straw and stars and fireworks explode within my head. In the mirror above my bureau a girl who looks just like Anna smiles like a goon. I chase down the whirlwind of emotions with another few gulps of whiskey.

I want to dance. I want to sing, and scream, and cry, and fly off the top of the empire state building to be carried down to the ground in a soft pillow of wind. I want nothing, and I want everything at once. It just doesn't make any sense, but in that strange way it makes all the sense in the world.

I'm pulled from my philosophical thought by the blinking on the clock. When did three hours pass! I dance back to my bed on my toes, old muscles rejoicing at the familiar pull of Ballet positions. I wanted so badly to dance again. But it reminded me of him.

_"You're so beautiful when you dance," He slurs, pushing me against the wall, "So beautiful..." He trails off as my shirt is torn._

No no no Anna. Not down this road again. Once you start you can't stop thinking about it.

I chop the next line over again so it's ultra fine.

_He runs his hand through my hair telling me how pretty I am. _

I shiver, tossing my hair over my shoulders as if it's dirty. Which it practically is. He made me feel so dirty.

_"Bad girl, bad bad girl. You want it don't you?"_

My hand starts to shake as I make the line neater pushing in excess powder. A water drop splats next to the line. I touch my face. Tears. Signs of weakness. I wipe my eyes angrily btu forget the blade is still in my hand. In the bureau mirror I see a small cut. Damnit. That hurt.

_Painful. It was so damn painful. I'd never hurt more in my life. I was a virgin._

My throat closes up and I can barely breathe. I stagger down to the kitchen with my empty glass. I begin to unscrew the top of the whiskey and give up on the glass, throwing it at the wall. I place my lips on the throat of the handle and suck it down. It hurts, I feel a rush of nausea and i feel like hurling, but I keep drinking.

The entire room is spinning. I stand for a second in the spinning room. I still feel him! All over my skin, through my hair, _inside of me._ I want to cry, to scream. I'm defiled, dirty, ugly, stupid, I _deserved_ it. I sink down to my knees, fumbling for my phone. Before i register I'm dialing.

Stupid, ugly, dirty, whore, defiled, slut, desecrated, shameful, trash.

"What? Anna what are you saying? Are you drunk?" Jake's voice is panicked on the other line. I see my reflection in the large mirror by the door. WHY THE FUCK DO WE HAVE SO MANY MIRRORS. I scream throwing the cap of the whiskey, it bounces right next to the mirror.

"Max she's screaming about mirrors. We should go get her." I hear on Jake's end. "Where are you?"

I'm going insane. This is finally me going insane. Totally bonkers. Psycho, crazy. I knew in the end all that shit I did would come around to get me.

"She's at home. We'll be right there Anna don't move."

Stupid, dirty, ugly, tarnished, stained, soiled.

I throw back the last of the whiskey and go for the tequila. Garbage can? The WORLD is my trash can. I smash the whiskey bottle at my feet and take a small gulp of the Patron. Ooh, this stuff is hard. I stare at the shattered glass for a moment before sweeping it to the side with a slipper clad foot so I can recycle it later.

The world isn't spinning anymore, I'm spinning with it. For the first time in a long time I let a carefree grin light upon my face. No worries whatsoever. All that matters is that I'm happy and the world wants me to be happy as long as I have this tequila in my hand.

Knocks sound on the door as Jake's and Max's panicked voices yell from outside my door.

Under my inebriated haze sober me whispers, "Practice is going to be HELL tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: do NAT own Never Back Down, or anyone/anything in it. Just Anna and her self-destructive ways hahah

So no one really answered my question from the last AN (thanks for those of you who did!) but I wanna hear from you so more reviews and tell me what you want! Who should Anna get with in the end? Jake, Ryan, or Max? Or all three ahhaha

* * *

Max Cooperman.

It was scary. Beyond scary even. By the time we got the door open we thought it was too late. We heard glass breaking and screaming going on from inside and feared for the worst. Jake worked some magic, because he's always just _so_ good at everything, and the door flew open. We were immediately hit by the strong scent of tequila mingling with despair.

"Anna!" We rushed to her curled up figure, side stepping the piles of broken glass. Her head lolled back and her eyes looked unseeing into ours. Jake picked her up in one fluid movement. He was always the more graceful one. If I tried that I would've dropped her into that pile of broken glass. He moves swiftly over to the couch.

"Max get a towel or something!" Jake yells at me. Over his shoulder I see Anna lying on the couch, face pale to the extreme. Her dark hair is matter to her face and she's muttering something under her breath.

"Now!" Jake screams over his shoulder again. I run up her stairs. Okay, linen closet. Where the fuck are you? I throw open random doors, seeing spare bedrooms, bathrooms, offices. This place is enormous! The next door on my right appears to be Anna's bedroom. It's like the 60s walked in and threw up all over the room. There's tie dye everywhere, ethnic Batik prints on the wall, incense is held by spun glass holders at random spots in the room.

Chic's bound to have some towels in the room. I throw open her closet and am hit by the strong scent of weed. I smile a little, oh Anna. I spin around to her dresser. That's when I see the mirror. The mirror had one thick white powder line on it. It could be sugar. Or something. I get closer. Dipping a finger in the pristine pile. I touch my tongue and a burst of energy tingles down my spine. I didn't know she messed around in this kind of shit. Frankly I don't like it. Jake won't like this at all either. I dump the little pile in the trash can and place the mirror inside her drawer. Figures the first drawer I pick is adorned with lacy little thongs. 'Is that even underwear?' I think incredulously looking at the thin little string holding the little fabric.

My happy little friend twitches a bit in my boxers. SO not the time.

"Max!" Jake calls from downstairs. I run to her bathroom and grab the small handtowel on her counter. Downstairs Jake takes it from me, wetting it in the kitchen sink.

I kneel in front of Anna, who is huddled into herself, on her couch. She's shivering even though she's under three wool blankets.

"Anna..." I feel so bad. Bad that I didn't really ask her what's wrong. Worse that I didn't persist when she said nothing. Even more worse when I didn't notice her little habit. My uncle messed around in the same shit. I should've seen...

"Max-Ma-Max. I didn't ask for it I swear! I didn't want him t-t-to! I sa-said n-n-no. I did!" She says earnestly looking into my eyes. Her hand is gripped tightly onto my forearm.

"I-I believe you..." I trail off. What is she talking about?

"I told Ry-Ry-Ryan," She struggles to say his name, "I said no!" She says no fiercely. Shaking her head.

What? RYAN did this to her. I am honestly going to kill that motherfucker.

Jake kneels next to me, wiping her face, brushing the hair away.

"You should have seen it at school earlier man," Jake says to me, "There was that earthquake and McCarthy pushes her under a doorway. But while the earthquake is going on she's screaming and trying to run away from him. Intense."

I nod, still staring at Anna who's murmuring something frantically to both of us.

"I was _this_ close to killing him, but the probation officer was running down the hall." Jake shakes his head in disappointment.

I brush aside a curly lock that's plastered to the side of her neck.

"Anna were putting you to bed now." Jake says calmly.

She looks up at us with wide eyes, nodding her head rapidly.

"Yes. Yes good idea!" She nods.

Jake bends to pick her up, but the second their skin comes in contact she shakes.

"NO! Don't do-don't touch!" She says with wide eyes.

Jake sets her down immediately and backs away. Without a word, barely even registering our presence, she walks to her stairs. We follow her silently all the way up to her bedroom.

Jake takes in her hippie room as she settles onto her giant tie dye bedspread. Jake leans back to sit down on a bean bag chair when Anna turns to him, "NO! DON'T SIT ON THAT!" She screams.

Startled, Jake looks up alarmed, crashing into the wall. His leg knocks against the beanie bag which lets out a hollow ringing sound. He unzips the top to find empty liquor bottles. We all make eye contact and then the laughter is inevitable. Jake's and mine's scared and fearful laughter mingle with Anna's drunken laughter.

"Thank you...For helping me." Anna says with a small smile before she closes her bedroom door to us. A dead bolt slides from her side of the door and we let ourselves out the front door. It takes us five minutes to get situated in the car. When I finally lay back in the drivers seat. I turn my head slightly, looking at Jake.

"What a night, huh?"


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own shit, as usual. :) enjoy! sorry for the long period of time between update but school's killing me. I've put up a new story called Kids In Love, it's gonna be pretty intense, check it out! i double dog dare ya.

* * *

Max.

I pull up in front of the Lajoie Residence again. I feel like it's been two short of a time since my last visit. Luckily I don't even have to get down, Anna comes sprinting out the door the minute I shift to park. She settles into me and silence wraps us.

"Hey." She says it almost shyly, not meeting my eyes.

A long lock of curly brown hair tucked behind an ear with multiple peircings. She looks up, down, around, anywhere but me. Hands shaking, face pale with a slight sheen of sweat. I recognize this look all too well.

"Listen- I wanna-"

"About last ni-"

We both start. Her nervous laugh breaks the silence between us.

"You first." She says with a half-smile. Seems like everything about her is half. Half smile, half laugh, half there..

"I saw the mirror with that stuff on your bed," I say slowly, her face falls but I keep my eyes locked on hers, "Anna I want you to stop." _Need_ you to stop.

Her pale face goes through a cycling of emotions. First amusement, then shock, finally anger. She finally speaks.

"I don't think you have the right to tell me what to do. You have no idea what I've been through." Her voice is cold. I physically shiver, knock the heater on with my right hand.

"Anna. Talk to someone, tell the police, hell kick McCarthy's ass. But not that." I don't add the 'anything but that' that's floating in my head. Her eyes look defiantly up at mine. Chocolate brown shining into my own dark brown ones. Our faces are close and the area between is heated.

"We're gonna be late." She says curtly before turning back towards her seat.

I shift with more force necessary and something rattles around inside the gear shift. God dammit.

"Don't think that this is over." I start, looking over my shoulder as I back out of her immense driveway.

"Gee. Okay _Mom." _She scowls at me. A little part of me is glad to see that some of her spark is still there. That she's not completely empty, no matter what she tries to show us.

"Oh don't even pull that crap with me. Do you know how many people in my family I've seen waste away from that shit?" I scream at her. She flinches a little. She turns her face to the window before I can get a read on her emotions.

We're still both arguing by the time we pull up in front of Jake's. He cocks his head slightly as he takes in our frowning faces. He walks in front of the hood to the passenger seat. Anna scrambles to the back.

"SHOES ON MY SEATS!" I scream into the back. She's so frustrating. I want to strangle her then smother her to death...with my mouth. She sarcastically screams sorry at the back of my head. I wouldn't be surprised if she slapped me. Jake slides in looking confused.

His eyes say, 'You picked her up first?' But what he actually says is, "What's going on?"

I meet Anna's eyes in the rearview mirror. I should tell him. I should tell him right now. But my mouth doesn't open as Anna's eyes plead with me from the backseat. Jake looks back and forth between the two of us, catching our exchange.

"What? What's going on?" He asks, looking rapidly between us.

"Nothing." We happen to say at the same time, making it more suspicious. Jake slumps down in his chair like a five year old, tossing a muttered whatever over his shoulder. I see Anna looking at him, amused, from the rearview mirror. Of course. They always love Jake.

* * *

Jake.

The rest of the drive to gym is in silence. My eyes switch from Max to Anna repeatedly. I'm beyond confused to say in the least. Max's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. Anna's slouched down in the backseat, pouting like a three year old. As we get out of the car Anna flies over me and into the gym before I even get out of my seat.

"Dude. What's up with that?" I say to him in a low voice. He casually locks his car over his shoulder, not meeting my eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He says calmly. Bullshit.

"Oh come on man. You know I like her." I say evenly, pulling the sympathy card. His eyes flick to me briefly.

"Let's not be in second grade. I won't steal your little girlfriend," He says sarcastically. "That wasn't what we were talking about anyway."

"Tell me you're not into her..." I trail off. He can almost read the hurt in my voice. He almost flinches.

"I'm not. Relax man." He slings an arm over my should, and I try not to let it show on my face that I know that that happened to be the biggest lie Maxwell Cooperman had ever spoken.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: the usual, don't own anything/one but Annaaaaaa

p.s. MORE REVIEWS. it's like i'm a monster that feeds on them, probs just cause i'm new to this. But indulge my cravings:)

P.P.S please check out my other story Kids In Love. It's an original and it's going to be great!

* * *

Ryan.

I pace back and forth outside of Anna's locker monday afternoon. This entire weekend I had been tormented with images of Anna, memories from that party. I've never felt like a monster before. I see her coming before she sees me, she walks down the hallway with her binders clutched tight to her chest and her eyes not leaving the floor. Luckily I reach her before she sees me and starts an unnessecary fuss.

"Anna, please before you freak out I just need to talk to you." Her eyes meet mine, cloudy and unfocused. Her brow furrows further and fear shines in her eyes. I put that there, I made her like this. I knew Anna before the party too, we ran in the same circles, hung out with the same people. She used to be a fiery, shining star of a girl. If people were lights, then everyone else I knew was a tea candle and she was a bonfire in a forest. She had _that_ kind of personality that I would make such a corny analogy. And I made her this timid, cowering thing. I feel a tangible pucnh to the gut.

"Please, can we talk?" I plead. I smile one of my most charming smiles trying not to notice how she shudders at the smile. To my surprise her response comes much easier than I thought it would be.

"Okay, twenty minutes. That's all." She shakes her head as she says it, hell _I _can hardly believe she's being so nonchalant.

We sit at the abandoned lunch tables that overlook the beach. Back when I was a freshman, although I hardly let it show, I thought that the view from the lunch area was very Hollywood-esque. I stare at her across the table. Hardly does a guy ever call a girl gorgeous. Cute, sexy, hot, pretty. Sometimes beautiful, depending how much he wants in her pants. Gorgeous was usually reserved for our late 20s when we find that girl who makes us think of commitment.

But as I look at Anna I can't help that the first thing I think is gorgeous. She's different from the other girls with their bleach blonde hair and perpetually orange skin. She looks down at her hands, trembling in her lap. Did I do that too? She bites on her lips nervously, pale skin flushed even more than usual.

"You're losing time by just staring at me." She says pointedly, not looking up. Her thin fingers push back a curled lock of dark brow hair. In the sun it looks red.

"Anna, I-I was so drunk..." I definitely do not know how to start this, or where I'm going. I didn't expect her to say yes and sit down with me.

Anna.

"Anna, I-I was so drunk..." I cringe from where I'm sitting across a lunchtable from Ryan freaking McCarthy. Not what you want to hear from the guy that raped you. I can't believe I'm even sitting here. What am I doing here? I'm just a freaking masochist that's what it is. I just absolutely _love_ being in pain. Ryan notices my cringe and puts his head in his hands.

"There's isn't really anything I can say but sorry, and that doesn't even cover it. I didn't mean to do this to you-" I cut him off mid-sentence.

"You didn't _mean_ to do this to me? What did you mean then? Was there some other desired result that you didn't achieve?" I ask incredulously. I can't believe him. Some apology this is turning out to be. For the first time since we sat down I meet his eyes. His clear blue ones are...sincere. But then again everyone's an actor in Miami. I drop my eyes back to my trembling hands again. Stop shaking god dammit you're supposed to look strong and confident!

"You have every right to be mad. Incredibly mad," _You're God damn right I do_, "But please, I can't sleep without thinking about the horrible shit I did to you."

I stay silent. Wasn't this what I wanted? An apology, reparations of some sort?

"Anna please, look at me," I keep my eyes glued to the chipped purple polish on my thumb. In my peripheral vision I see his hand approaching my face. His thumb is lifting my face towards his before I can register. I jerk my head away from him.

"Look at me." He urges. I meet his eyes reluctantly.

I could go to the police. I could tell everyone at school. I could file a lawsuit against him. I could fucking beat his ass.

But I won't.

"It's okay." I say softly. His eyes widen and he looks at me.

"What?" He asks dumbly. Dumb dumb dumb. I can't tell if I mean him or me.

"Are you deaf? I said it's okay." I snap. His mouth opens and closes a few times. I want to snap at him how he looks like a fish. Albeit a cute fish. Ugh! How can I think he's cute after all this.

"That's it...?" He asks, trailing off. What does he want? A big tearful heart to heart, fuck no!

"Come on Anna," He urges, "Where's your fire? That feistiness you were known for? Hit me, hit me right now. Don't just passively sit there like it's okay!"

I refuse to meet his eyes. "You took that fire the night you raped me."

Now I look at him. It's crushing, the defeat in his eyes. You'd think he was the one who got raped. He starts to say I'm sorry but I cut him off again.

"You can say you're sorry all you want, It's not gonna take back what you did. It's in the past now, and you're sorry. Everyone deserves forgiveness, even you." I say.

"You don't know what this means to me Anna, I really can't even begin to describe." He starts, he reaches for my hands again. I backpedal and stand.

"Don't think this means we're best friends all of a sudden." I start walking away.

"I'll see you at peer tutoring?" He questions.

No! I don't want to, I'm switching tutors, You're a sick rapist jerk, I _hate _you more than I've ever hated anyone in my life.

"Yeah."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: don't own never back down, just Anna and her family. do people even read these things? if i said i owned the entire movie would i get in trouble? would secret agents like burst through my walls like in the stride mystery flavor commercial? this is all hypothetical of course.

* * *

Ryan.

"You took that fire the night you raped me." I shudder remembering Anna's words. How could I have done that to such a good person. She actually sat down to listen to what I had to say, she forgave me, and she's still my peer tutor. My mind twists over her complexity.

"Ryan. What are you doing just laying around there. Do something productive." My father breezes in and out of the room, his stern eye still fixed on me. I sigh as I pick up the discarded homework I threw on the floor earlier. Trig spins in front of my eyes a blur of numbers and symbols but all I can see is an image of Anna laughing. Anna laughing before I raped her, back when she was happy.

I'm going to fix her. If it takes everything I have, I'm going to make sure that she smiles the way she used to.

* * *

Anna.

I guess I only did sit down with Ryan was because I was really high. I look up into the mirror on my bureau. A tiny girl, pale skin and long coils of dark hair. Dark eyes and dark circles underneath those. I'd always been called beautiful I guess. I never could see why, I'd inherited a very French nose from my father, my feet were practically deformed from dance, and I had no tits. Now, even when other people look at me they can't use the word beautiful anymore. I look like a junkie, plain and simple.

A shiver runs down my spine. I cut up a new line. This is Ryan's fault, it's his fault I'm addicted. I'm powerless. I'm not in charge of my body. Just like how I felt when he raped me. I scream in rage and throw the blade at the wall. It sticks.

I'm crying again. Again. Why am I so damn leaky? I hold my head and take deep breaths. I'm probably shrieking and breathing heavily but I can't tell.

My mom got home from a cruise of some sort yesterday. She didn't notice the missing booze, or the broken mirrors. Or the smell of weed. Maybe it's just selective seeing. She hadn't even checked up on me.

God damn that stupid window. I use all my weight to try and force it down, "Ughh." Nothing. Obviously. I weigh all of 110 pounds. I give up on the window and grab a sweater from my closet. A box dislodges itself from the mess and falls at my feet. Oh...

Nudging the top off with my foot, I stare down at the black en pointe shoes. Drops of water leak in a circle around the shoes, oh the irony. I touch my face. I didn't even realize I was still crying.

* * *

Jake.

"Jake?" A timid voice on the other end of my phone.

"Yeah."

"It's Anna." Oh... I listen harder, she's so quiet I can barely hear, "I'm coming over okay?"

"Oh yeah. Do you need direc-"

"I'm outside." The phone call ends. I look out my window into the front yard of the dingy apartments. She waves from the grass. I sign 14 to her and she nods and heads up the stairs.

I dash to the front door, but quickly back track to the bathroom. I flatten down my hair and spray myself with some deoderant quickly. God...What am I 12? She knocks on the door, 3 quick taps.

"Hey." I smile at her.

"Hello." She says with a smile. We stare at each other for a while.

"Come in-"

"I'm sorry I just didn't want to be alone-" We both start at the same time. We laugh again and move into the living room. Settled on the couch, things are less awkward than before.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" I ask her. This was my chance to discover the enigma wrapped mystery called Anna.

"I don't know about you," She finally starts after a lengthy pause, "But, I'm just not the kind of person who likes to talk."

"Oh, then-" I start, but she starts talking again.

"I just like being with someone who makes me feel better when I feel...however I do." She said, smiling shyly.

"How about a movie?" I suggest. She nods and I look through the box hear the tv. My heart thumps almost painfully and I can't wipe the smile off my face. How do I make her feel?

"How do you like Disney movies?" I ask over my shoulder. She sees the smile still on my face and smiles again. It's like fifth grade when you tell that person you like that you like them, and neither of you stop smiling for the rest of that week.

"I love them."

I stick Finding Nemo in the DVD player and sit back on the couch. She scooted over on the couch so when I sit, our knees touch. Could she feel the same static electricty shooting through my entire body? I brush a hand casually against her knee as I rearrange myself. Goosebumps raise along her arm and she shifts slightly towards me.

I sit back and I feel like the luckiest guy on the planet.

* * *

Anna.

From beside me Jake shifts, he's not really watching the movie I can tell. His eyes prickle the flesh on my neck. I bite my lip. This is nice. Just sitting, and being together. I don't have to talk, he isn't trying to pry. I'm more comfartable than I've been in weeks.

Somewhere into our second Disney movie, Jake's arm had wound it's way across my shoulders, and I was snuggled into him.

And it feels just fine, I think smiling.

As if he could feel the smile on my face he looks down to where my cheek is pressed to his chest. My god is he sculpted nicely. I look up to see him smiling too.

Yes, this is just fine with me.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: sorry it's been a while:) as usual i don't own never back down or any of it's characters

* * *

Max.

"But what do _you _really think? Did Tyler really help free the Narrator, or did he destroy him? You have the rest of this period and your essay must be at least one and a half pages front and back. Neatness!" Ms. Gluney waves her hands around her head like the loony old nut she is.

I grudgingly reach for the pen sticking out of the top of my backpack. Louise leans over to me, her long blonde hair swishing.

"Need a piece of paper Max?" She smiles wide. I grin and nod. She places it on my desk with a satisfied little smile. Girls, I'll never understand them, I think as I shake my head. I scribble my name down on my paper and look at the clock. Bored already. And I still have 30 fucking minutes. I groan out loud and Louise looks over with a little giggle.

I look up to see Anna squinting her eyes at Louise. I raise an eyebrow enquiringly. 'Jealous?' I mouth. She rolls her eyes and pantomimes Louise, all smiles and obnoxious gum chewing and incessant hair twirling. I snort a little, her imitation was spot on. Louise hears me and looks up at me, still smiling. She follows my gaze to Anna on the opposite side of the room. Anna wiggles her fingers and winks, sending a kiss over to Louise.

Louise flushes red and looks back furiously at her paper. I smile and look back at Anna who winks at me before turning back to her paper. I shake my head a little and turn back to the paper due in 25 minutes.

To my left the nerds are working hard, hunched over and stressed out as they seriously edit and add to their essays. The jocks across the room have the most confused look on their faces as they puzzle over their essays. Anna scribbles on with an impassive face. She's been looking a lot better recently. I smile. She's been doing a lot better recently.

* * *

Ryan.

"No, Ryan. That's a whole note! It looks like a donut. Donuts have holes. Donut holes, whole note." She says, waving a hand in front of my face.

"So this is a half note," I point at one of the notes she drew out, "and this is a quarter note." I point at another. Anna's face nods me on encouragingly. She points at the last one. A stubby little O-shape. Come on, she just told it to me. The fuck.

"And that's a...donut note?" Her face falls and she cradles her head in her hands.

"Okay, let's try this again." She starts, taking the mini white board and erasing what she had drawn.

"I think it's the setting." I say matter of factly to her. She looks at me dubiously then looks around the library.

"You think it's the library, filled with books and information, that makes you say stupid things." She raises an eyebrow. I smile a little, the girl's funny.

"There's a cafe 5 minutes away on Stonem. Much more calming aura, doesn't smell like old cat ladies." I grin at her. She just looks at me.

"We could-" I try again. She starts shaking her head as she puts away all our study supplies.

"Just study the paper I gave you Ryan and we'll pick up in two days." She brushes out before I can even comprehend she said no. People never say no. Ever. I watch the door swing shut after her. Nobody's ever told me no in my life except for her. It seems all she's doing is saying no to me.

I pack up my papers and walk out to my car still not believing it.

* * *

Anna.

What type of idiot says no when Ryan McCarthy asks her to the romantic little cafe on Stonem Avenue. This kind of idiot.

_"I think it's the setting." _

His smile sent shivers down my spine. I shake my head to empty the thought that after the last few tutoring sessions they hadn't been only bad shivers. Why does he have to be so damn attractive. It would make my life so much easier if he was as ugly as he is on the inside.

Inside my head I scold myself, no one's completely ugly on the inside. Something has to have made them that way. I wonder what it could be for Ryan though, he has everything.

I slide into a bus seat and lean my forehead against the window, it cools my suddenly warm skin.

_"I'm not so much a fan of music." He grumbles as I try and explain to him how the numbers dictate tempo._

_"Yeah, I can tell." He smirks at my comment._

_"How come you're so good at it?" He asks, looking up at me. Stupid pretty blue eyes. I just want to poke them out. I clamp my right hand over the left one which out of it's own accord is now struggling to pierce his eyes with a newly sharpened pencil._

_"I don't know. Music and languages are just two subjects that really come to me. Figures that the two most useless subjects would be the ones I'm best at." I snort. Ryan smiles at me._

_"Spain and France are great in the summer. Language could be good then." I half-smile at his words._

_"Well then thanks for the reassurance that I am not completely useless, but back to music." I say, clearing my throat uncomfortably. I can't tell if it's just the normal discomfort I feel or if it's the fact he's trying to compliment me._

_"It's not fun, feeling useless." He states, looking down. Everyone knows that Ryan and his father have a very charged relationship._

_"Yeah." Is all I can bring myself to say. My mouth nearly drops to the ground seeing him vulnerable like this. I want to say something really rude, kick him while he's down, but my mouth won't function. Soon my opportunity is over and he looks back up at me, his eyes unreadable._

_"Yeah."_

Maybe the people we think are bad people, aren't really that bad at all..


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: i do not own Never Back Down or any of it's characters, only Anna BoBanna;)

* * *

Anna.

It's been one of the longest days ever and it's only 6 o'clock. I toss my bags and coats on the floor as soon as I walk in.

"Juliana Darling, don't just cast your things on the floor like that, hang them up like a lady." An airy voice calls from the kitchen. My arms freeze as I try and detangle my scarf from my sweater. I toss those on the floor too and cautiously approach the kitchen. The swinging door is propped open.

"Hello dear, you look terrible. What have you done to your beautiful skin?" My mother floats across the kitchen in that dreamy, graceful way she has and cups my face her in her soft hands. She turns my face from side to side while clucking her tongue in disapproval.

"Your complexion is so sallow, I'll make a facial appointment immediately." She whisks away from me on light feet and returns to the stove where she stirs a giant pot.

"Hi Mom.." I manage to croak out my first words. I go to the island and stand across from her at the stove, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to be back so soon?"

She looks up from the pot at me, "Dear don't go gaping like that it makes you look uneducated."

I promptly close my mouth but my eyes remain as large as saucers. She puts her whole body into stirring the thick red soup/sauce in the pot. Spashes of it fly upward, precariously close to her white sundress. Her floppy straw hat lies discarded on the counter.

"I grew tired of the Mediterannean after a while." She says casually shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh." I say pointedly. My fingers nervously play with the folded paper I found in my sweatshirt pocket.

"Don't fidget." She commands. Instantly my back goes straight as if it were made of a metal pole.

"Mom-," I start, my voice cracking a little bit, "I called you six times and left messa-" Tears flood my eyes as I remember how the day after it happened I called my mother hysterically. She never answered.

"Oh honey, first let me tell you about the cabana I stayed in, it was gorgeous! I took a million pictures for you because it was just the type of room you wanted when we first moved in here. Do you remember that? How you wanted the big bay windows and flying egyptian cotton curtains." She rambles on, flying to her purse for her camera.

The tears threaten to spill over and my throat clogs with my unshed tears. I was never one to go crying for help, especially not to my parents, but after it happened I remember all I kept repeating in my head was "I want my mommy."

"God you are so god damn selfish!" I scream, she looks at me alarmed over her tanned shoulder.

"Juliana your language! You can not speak to me like that!" She yells coming at me with a pointed finger.

"All you care about is yourself. I needed you! I needed you and Daddy and you weren't there! You're _never _there!" I scream at the top of my lungs now. She deserves this. She deserves to get hurt. She wasn't there for me when I hurt, so she deserves this. I'm not being selfish.

"You have no right to be called a mother." I hiss furiously into her face. Her eyes widen as if I had physically slapped her. She starts to speak but I'm running to my room before the argument can progress any further.

I sink into my bed and clutch at my pillow. My entire chest is tight and I'm getting light headed. I need release. I scratch at my throat and chest, need air... Tears are still pouring themselves down my face and I'm writhing around like some possessed freak. Need release.

I fumble for my bedside table, tossing aside hidden tins and secret compartments looking for the little plastic baggie that will give me the release I need. Once I find it, I tear it apart with my finger, my hands trembling, a multitude of colored pills spill out on my bedspread. Orange, pink, mint green, baby blue, all so pretty. My fingers dance across the sheets and finally stop on a oblong blue pill. OC on one side, 120 stamped on the other. I smile, I'm dimly aware that it's a madly insane smile, but I'm too busy worshipping the oxycontin in my palm.

I sweep the other pills into an empty altoids can and stare at the pretty blue pill sitting neatly in the palm of my hand. I swallow it down with the glass of water near my bed. For a moment I just stare at the wall across from me, and then it hits me. Oh oxycodone you never fail me. I fall backwards into my bed, my head swimming with the swirling images of oncoming sleep.

A timid knock sounds on my door. I barely even flick my eyes over to the direction of the knocks.

"Juliana." A voice calls. Dearest Mother. I don't move. I hear her sigh from the other side. Hear the slide of her palm against the door. A louder one. Is she sitting against my door? I get myself to move my head. I can almost see her in my dreamy haze, sliding through the particles that make my door. She looks sad.

"Juliana I understand that your father and I aren't here that often. And know that it is definitely not intentional. Your father works hard to give you the things that you enjoy in your life." She says in a slow voice.

And you, Mother? What excuse do you have to offer me?

"I know that I'm not here for you either. But I'm trying. I always knew I was never going to be the mothering type." She sighs again.

Well some apology that was.

"But Juliana understand that we both love you very much. I will be here for you forever, even if you can't reach me over the telephone. Okay?" She asks.

I don't respond. I know that's what she's waiting for, but I'm still too angry to give her the satisfaction. I turn my head sharply away from the door, looking into the mirror on my bureau. I see a child looking back at me, hard headed and stubborn.

"Forgiveness is a powerful gift, Juliana. The weak never forgive, forgiveness is an attribute of the strong. And God knows that your father and I raised you to be a strong young woman." I hear her get up and walk down the hallway, her heels clicking as she walks to her bedroom.

Damn bitch knows exactly where my weak spot is. I groan and roll over, ignoring the sleep pulling at the edge of my mind. I _am_ strong. I was raised to be strong, to never cry, never complain. I used to be so proud of myself, that I handled myself like a mature adult not a whimpering simpering girl. I am damn strong!

Maybe I can forgive.


	13. authors note!

Hi guys it's me! I know it's been incredibly _incredibly _ long time since I've updated this story, and I'd really like to continue it but I want to know if anyone is still reading it at all. So review or message me or something and let me know whether or not I should continue this story, it's really going somewhere I promise!

-Belly


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